


Christmas Tree Lane

by Alexis_Madeline



Series: Runaway [1]
Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parent, Hurt/Comfort, Me projecting? in MY fics? More likely than you think, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Michael straight up being like 'ok i care for u now', References to Depression, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Madeline/pseuds/Alexis_Madeline
Summary: Christmas Tree Lane is a series of streets that have over-the-top decorations for crowds of people to admire together.You're alone, until you stumble upon the Boogeyman.
Relationships: Michael Myers & Reader
Series: Runaway [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586752
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Christmas Tree Lane

It’s 3AM on Christmas and you’ve been walking around for about an hour, admiring the Christmas decorations on other peoples homes. Your hot chocolate is long gone and you’re tempted to just throw your thermos away in a garbage can instead of carrying it. Your phone is on 20% and you wish you took your earphones with you. 

You check your notifications. There’s a text from your mom that you don’t want to read just yet. You can tell from just the first few sentences that she’s still upset with you. You wonder if this is what you deserve- maybe you really are a bad person, selfish, undeserving. You click your phone off. 

You don’t want to go home, not until everyone is asleep at least. So you continue forward, your lips chapped and your nose stinging from the cold. 

Christmas Tree Lane does little to lift your spirits. It’s your favorite part of December and yet it makes you feel even more empty inside. Everyone’s homes are decorated to the max, so bright and cheerful, made for people to admire during the local winter festival. 

You keep walking, barely registering the blinking lights. Maybe, you could keep walking until you’re gone. You turn around a corner, getting to the main road. A car zooms past you and you think that maybe you could… 

You pull your phone out, check your notifications once more. There’s nothing but that text from your mom. You put it away. 

Slush crunches underneath your feet. You look down, watch your footprints mix with another pair. Was someone else out recently? You step in their tracks, impressed by how small your feet are compared to theirs. 

Is this person still around? Did they come see the lights in the middle of the night like you? Are they just going out for a walk like you? Are they like you?

Or maybe they were just walking home from the store. Maybe they were going back home to their loving family. You wonder if they ran out of wrapping paper and walked to a nearby store. Are there any stores open right now? 

You look up, squint at the tall figure a block ahead of you. They’re admiring a house, it seems like. You stop for a moment, debating whether or not to approach them. The wind bites at your skin and you continue forward, curious as to why this mysterious stranger is out so late.

They notice you when you’re about 4 houses away from them. You give a small wave as they turn their head to you. They don’t move as you approach and you stop just one house away from them. You squint, is he wearing a mask? He turns his body to you and makes his way over. 

That mask. There’s something so eerily familiar about it. You register the fear inside you but you don’t move. Not because you’re frozen but because you just don’t want to. You recognize him when he’s a few steps away. 

“Oh, it’s Michael Myers.” 

He stops, tilts his head. 

“Hi,” You glance at the knife in his hand, it’s clean. You must be his first victim then. That’s pretty cool, you guess. 

“Merry Christmas,” You say, looking up at him. 

You both don’t move. 

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” 

He takes a step forward and you don’t move. You try to find his eyes in the mask. 

You wonder what your life would be like if you made different choices. Maybe if you tried to keep your last relationship going then perhaps you’d live in California with them. Maybe if you attended university, you would have a better paying job and live on your own somewhere. Maybe if you lived with your dad, you would be in bed right now, safe. Maybe if you hid your money better, then your mom wouldn’t have stolen all of it, screaming about how selfish you are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

It’s almost funny how none of it matters. The choices you already made don’t even matter anymore. 

You choke out a laugh and you realize that tears are welling up in your eyes. 

“Fuck, sorry,” You say, your throat strained, as he stops, “Yeah, just, go ahead.” 

You close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. Nothing comes. 

“I-” You open your eyes, staring at the ground, at his shoes, “I want to die.” 

Your vision goes blurry and you try to laugh it off, “Not to sound dramatic or anything.” 

Nothing. 

“I’m trapped, you know what I mean?” You sniffle, “You’d be really helping me out here,” You weakly laugh. 

You look back up to him, try your best to give him a smile. He stares back with that impassive expression. 

You open your mouth to say something but you’re at a loss so you just let out a small chuckle. You think about how you never want to go back home. You think about how long you worked to save up all that money so you could run away with it. It’s funny, you were gonna use it to save yourself but it led you here.

You look down, “I’m just tired of it all, y’know? I’m tired of doing so much only for people who are supposed to care for me to treat me like garbage. I was going to,” You choke out a sob, “I was going to leave, disappear, finally be on my own and away from the fucking misery, y’know?” You throw your thermos to the ground in frustration, “I just wanted to disappear. I don’t even want to live anymore.” 

...

Your eyes widen as his hand takes yours. 

“Oh,” You stumble as he pulls you along, “Okay.” 

He doesn’t say a single word as you both walk for the next 20 minutes. You wonder if he’s going to take you somewhere else to kill you. His hand is surprisingly warm. 

He leads you to a car in an empty parking lot and opens the passenger door, ushering you inside. You oblige and he shuts the door as you put on your seatbelt. 

The heater gently fans your face when he starts the ignition. You put your hands in front of it and he turns the knob to the highest setting.

“Oh, thank you,” You smile at him as he stares at you.

He looks out the windshield, and you think you hear him sigh. 

You look out your window as he starts driving. 

He drives for an hour and you almost fall asleep, but your phone dings. 

You sit up and Michael turns his head towards you. Your phone displays another text from your mom. 

You’re never coming back so you open it. 

2:18 AM  
_You better get your sorry ass back here! You don’t get to walk out when you don’t like what I say! I swear to god I’ll cause a scene if you’re not home in 30 minutes, I’ll call all of your friends and scream that you ran away! I’ll call the cops and tell them you said you were gonna jump off the overpass so when they find you they’ll lock you up in the fucking crazy house! You want that, huh? Is that what you fucking want you selfish piece of shit!_

Your eyes water, despite knowing that you’re never dealing with all of that again. It still hurts. 

4:32 AM  
_Where are you!?!? I’m calling the cops!_

You click on the screen, type, _Go ahead, I’m gone for good._

She responds as you roll down the window. 

_Please just come home and apologize to me, I’m going to kill myself if youre not home soon. I have a handful of vicodin rn._

You grit your teeth, angry that she’s used that against you at every turn. Angry that she’s said such things to you even when you were a kid, _a kid_ , for god's sake. 

_Goodbye._

You toss your phone, watch as it collides with the street in the rear view mirror. 

You roll up the window, use your sleeves to wipe your face. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out, lean your head back against the seat. 

You feel good, surprisingly, happy that you got the last word, happy that you don’t have to burden yourself with unnecessary grief. You’re sure the feeling will pass, that you’ll miss her because she is your mother after all. You wonder if she’ll go through with it- she’s taken an excess of pills before and left you to care for her in the aftermath. You don’t want blood on your hands but you also don’t want to be trapped forever. 

Michael’s hand finds yours and you smile at him. 

“Thanks,” You give him a light squeeze and he mimics you before putting his hand back on the wheel. 

You look out the window, watching the exit signs on the freeway fly past you. You think about Michael, wonder how he even got here. It doesn’t matter, you suppose. You don’t know what you’re gonna do, what he’s gonna do with you.

But for now, you’re going to stop thinking about it. He’s shown you more kindness than you've gotten in the last month, so you're going to trust him. 

“Thank you, again,” You say as you shut your eyes.


End file.
